Love your Fate - Remember you will Die
by Myoune
Summary: " After the end of Assassin's Creed 3 's end, Rebecca, Shaun and others assassins managed to get back Desmond and his ancester'spirits into the Animus. Their help will be necessary now that Juno and Abstergo's projects are treatening to destroy the Brotherhood. " This fanfiction is translated from my french story "Amor Fati - Memento Mori" . Sorry of my bad english R
1. The Phantom Menace

**Love _Your Fate - Remember You Will Die  
_**

**_(french title in latin lol : Amor Fati – Memento Mori )_**

* * *

**Bonjour, **

**The story takes place after the end of Assassin's Creed III. **

**So, SPOILS about the end of the game. About the serie in general.**

**Assassin's Creed universe and character are the propriety of UBISOFT.**

**Rating T just to be fine. May contain scenes of physical and/or verbal violence and other acts which can hurt public opinion.**

**This is a fanfiction... fan (- me) fiction ( = fiction) so...**

**NOTHING IS TRUE, EVERYTHING IS PERMITTED**

**English is not my native language. **

**Why this story so ?**

**1/ I've read so many english stories, so as a reward of all the good lecture you gave me, I wanted to share my first AC story with you. It takes me quite long to translate  
**

**2/ The french AC fandom is so... hum... small.**

**Thanx to Archesa for the betareading. **

**Enjoy ^^**

**Bonne lecture.**

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The Phantom Menace

* * *

And Earth kept running smoothly, sun to rise, night to fall.

Men and Women kept on loving, manipulate and destruct each other.

All that without Desmond around.

Humanity was expecting the day when Juno's wrath would storm upon them; praying for gods whom have already abandoned them to their fate.

Hours were lengthy, days became months, and months felt like years.

The master of the assassin's brotherhood was downhearted by the loss of his only son. Too often he raved, his eyes in the void; his thoughts brought him far away where he could see his little devil again, playing with other children. The carefreeness. And the time he could let himself be called a father.

This man whose heart had hardened over the years and hazards of the job, yes him, he was a broken man today and would be eternally in mourning. If the death could embrace him now, he would smile to her without hesitation.

_- Mr. Miles ?_ Shaun's voice asked. The man had entered the office of his superior, having knocked at the door and waited for some endless minutes.

Back to the harsh reality, William let escape a sigh of tiredness and fatigue. To be in charge of a small group lauding formerly the freedom of the people, and to be confronted with a phantom menace was not its first qualification.

Of his gaze, he invited the red-haired nerd to express himself. That one did not hide his enthusiasm longer and unloaded, with his usual deep voice.

- _Thanks to Rebecca and other engineers, I was able to create a logarithm which modified the structure of the program of the animus to convert the immaterial data..._

-_ All this gibberish to say that ?_

Questioned the master with an incisive tone, full of boredom and annoyance.

In a defensive gesture, Shaun replaced its glasses on his straight nose, and cleared up his throat to maintain his composure, as apologizing for his drifting behaviour. He continued:

-_ The animus became in a way a space of huge social holographic network where all our brothers can connect and interact with one an other._

_Well, that means, connect their spirit via an updated animus, which will be available in every base. Each will put down a copy of one's memories there and can then free there the memory of his ancestors by avoiding the halving of personality. Once the reports of the old one gathered, the new program will calculate their potential DNA, which means after all, that they will be autonomous. And of their own souvenirs can be extracted from the viable data on assassins of whom we still ignore everything, and them even will be able to - when their memory is repaired - contribute to make their colleagues live again and after us. And we'll be able to trace back - if the servers) of the animus allow this - until very first of us_.

- _What about Desmond ? _Asked a pained voice.

Yes it was prodigious invention, a new and major progress. But what should these old men bring them otherwise some sincere testimonies on their time?

Could it be that he didn't have explained well enough the functioning of the monster they were creating? Such a brilliant idea, nevertheless! Shaun took the lack of spontaneous gratitude on himself.

William could not think of a single second to be made relive the soul of his own father, or one of his glorious ancestors, his only thoughts were for the son that he mourned, Desmond.

_- It will be difficult I dare say. But with your memories, the ones of your wife, those from Rebecca and mines too, and the others; we might be able to reconstitute a valid memory of him so that it regenerates itself and lives on her own will as a proper entity._

There was still hope. A slender hope for him to catch up the time lost with his son.

_- When can we have a try ? _That was the master's ultimate question as he got up from his seat.

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**Thanx for reading.  
Again Sorry for my poor english, I'll try to improve.  
**

**Merci.**

**M.**


	2. The Creature

**Hello,**

**That Chapter was the harder to translate; the ones following are easier and a way more interesting.**  
**Keep on reading.**

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The Creature

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- _The program is working under its capacities, the exploration and extrapolation system of the memory are in beta-test supervised by engineers in France.  
Actually, the only thing we have here and now is the modified animus, in order to enter the virtual world that we built up. The rest is still under construction so that our ancestors can discover..._

- _All of this looks like a video game to me… Give them a call, I want to know how it is going.  
_

Shaun gave his watch an annoyed look, then shrugged. No-one was refusing a call from the big boss. No matter the hour. The time to escort his boss up to the computer room, he contacted one of his colleagues. Everything was set in two monologues; he installed Mr. Miles on the armchair of the animus, and put the new headphones filled with sensor on his forehead.

He indicated him to place the right hand on the scanner planned for that purpose. An uncluttered system of connection. William closed his eyes and was take in a soft fog which made him feel free, like the third puff of mary-joahna.

The next moment, his eyes flashed open in a very dark place. He walked and listened to the echo of his steps which indicated him several things. That he was in a small room , and that the floor was made of concrete. A small humming came to his ears, then a noise of a cracking joint. And a yawn.

_- Hello ! Somebody there?_, he yelled.

_- Yeah sorry, it's a little bit dark in there for the moment, but this is the only available room, the others are under construction. Surprise ! It is 4 in the morning, nobody available to code the script for a bulb or a candle._

The annoyed voice of a woman rang through the room, seeming to get closer, then to get away. A rustle of cloth indicated him that she must have sat down on the ground.

_- I am impress. I am suppose to see you, and I don't. What are you paid for ! _

No, he was not angry; he was rather derisive and so cynical at the same time.

_- If only I was pay, as you say, I shall not need to have a second job to provide for my needs, and so, I could dedicate myself to my Creation._

The feminine voice had answered softly, but William could feel the tension of her jaws in her tone. If her eyes had been guns, and if she had the infra-red vision, he would be dead right now.

- _You speak English? They told me you lived in France._

-_ Yes, but that doesn't mean I am stupid. Fortunately France accepts migrant workers. But here we use an immediate translating program. I speak in my language and you hear it in your. Like that, everybody understands. I like hearing people speaking in English; my translator is on OFF for this language. It is ON for the other dialects. To change your settings, you just have to reach your account on the database of the animus. Our guests, however, will have no choice. Shaun - who co-manages the project with me - and I, made the choice not to code our ancestors more than required. It is banned to modify their capacities and memories. They will never be able to learn ice-skating for example._

- _It's only fair. I do reserve myself to have a right of veto. When I can begin the recovery of my old men?_

_- The release of "MemoCorp" doesn't have any date yet. Let us say between the middle of the next week and next year, in February, 2014._

_- I don't have all that time ! Do as quickly as possible. _

It was an order, firm and tough. He was ready to do anything to see his son's face again, yes everything, but not to wait. It was like feeling the lack of a drug, he needed it. Need to see that intense look challenging him once more. Hear the sound of his voice. Embrace him. This simple observation made his ardor fail him again. It would be only a replica of his spirit, not his body.

_- Explain me how it works. With words I can understand, _he specified_  
_

_-Very well sir. First, the good news : the first assays are very prolific. We have to simplify the program so that it does not encode the living persons on its own will, only the connection allows to enter this world. And you just have to think of the word "disconnection" to return to reality. Here we are dematerialized. I can touch you, you're gonna feel it here, but your physical envelope won't, it will avoid certain physiological inconvenience. Getting upset here will not make you wrinkle outside. On the other hand, the opposite is not true. For the example, when your real bladder will be full, and when your brain will let it to you know, you will automatically be disconnected. In order to keep our covering healthy. Eat - Drink - Sleep. And avoid that our members come here, and spend all their time chatting with their ancestors and reliving their adventures._

_-Exactly like an addiction to a video game or to fessebouc_*****_. The plague of our youth , _he added

- _Next month, every HQ will be equipped with at least a simplified connection device. We take our time to watch the reactions of the servers, avoid overloads, etcetera. We put some security to prevent it, but we still don't know what would happen if it failed and if a person wasn't disconnected during some massive crash of the system. Several rooms are already available, others are coming, according to the suggestions. We think about recreating historical districts into which ones we'll integrate our ancestors; it will avoid the lag of the communication server. And what will be the heart of the city, the communication center, will be completely modern. Abbreviation Central City or La Centrale. This room will be your office. You will automatically come here when you connect. For the decoration, see with Shaun.  
Do you need something else, or I can attend to my night-activities? Specifically, SLEEP._

Should he have been the emperor of the galaxy, his answer would have been the same, repressed in his throat, stopped by a breath of surprise arisen suddenly at the sound of the buzzing. She was already disconnected, leaving him alone in the darkness.

_- This spitfire does have personality,_ admitted William as he straightened up.

Anybody shall have been diplomatically unfit after a sleepless night, two hours of sleep, and giving a one hour summary to the great master..

Shaun smile derisively to this obvious fact.

Among all his associates on this project, she was by far the most aggressive - after him of course. A very intelligent woman, an outstanding programmer, with an overflowing imagination, and which did not hesitate to fight to impose its ideas (especially when she was right and when the refusal of others came from their incomprehension). An iron hand in an iron glove. One of these hands which emasculate the weak ones. A female version of Shaun. But less brilliant than him. At least, that is what he thought.

He quickly took back the electrodes which he had placed after the falling asleep of his boss. Medical follow-up was important at this stage of the development. The data would be analyzed by the rest of the team later this week.

- _When everything is ready, make sure we have all the required equipment, I want to be the first one to benefit from it and find my son. Good work Shaun._

The man quickly left towards his apartments. Compliment re-hung in a soft heat in the heart of the young programmer. Smile on the lips, Shaun took his cellphone and shared this moment of glory.

" From Shaun Hastings To Patie Lawrence: Thank you. "

* * *

***So, this is a so frenchie joke. Facebook sounds like Fessebouc... fesse = ass, bouc = goat **

**Told you, french joke. ^^**

**Thanx for reading.**


	3. Memory Sequence Detected

**Hello,**  
**I'll try to translate and update the chapter in the same day I publish the french one.**  
**Hope you'll like it.**

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Memory sequence detected

* * *

One week passed, then an other one, and seemed as endless as a the month before. Long was the waiting for Mr. Miles. Every day, after having managed the affairs of the brotherhood, having read assignment reports and having approved the next strikes, he took the time to get of his office and go to see the progress of the project. Three teams took turns and worked together throughout the day, question of time difference between countries.

Rebecca had even managed to get the boss to set the decoration of his virtual workplace. A waste of time, but finally, more than a design matter, it became a place to live-in where he felt comfortable. He had opted for a porch, so giving to his office a natural light- what he didn't have in the reality of their bunker. And from this majestic tower, he had a wonderful viewpoint on his digital city.

The rooms of the city were now buildings with surprising forms, resulting from free-creation of members; some Green, covered with a coat of greenery, other Hi-Tech, where giants screens played Alice Cooper's concert. There was also small villas, any comfort, a park to take a walk, sports complex, movies theatres.

The next up-dates would bring the public service as transport, and the weather change. And the following one, a whole human being's I.A. : average inhabitants, animals, insects. Trinkets for William. And sighs of exasperation on behalf of Shaun. The server did not need all this, but the assassins had so much fun making proposals to the programmers during their spare time. Until he and Miss. Lawrence were done encoding and protecting the communication center, he left the others with their tomfooleries.

It was late in the United States, and still too early in Europe, but as the two scientists were so close to the purpose, none had wanted to leave. They communicated by video conference while their fingers, livened up of their own will, continued to type code lines on the keyboard.  
The tired voice of Patie Lawrence resounded harder while the lapping of touches stopped.

_-Mr. Miles, the Memocorp enters the second stage._

The following moment, under the eyes of Shaun and Rebecca, William was equipped with the headphones and stirred on the seat. He scanned his palm to initiate the connection.

He knew what he had to do. Arrived in his new office, he did not linger, crossed the door and took the elevator. About twenty floor lower, in the ground floor, he dumbly greeted the NPC of the reception and stuck his swipe card to a small black case. A green small light ignited and the main metal door opened.

Miss. Lawrence was already there. He had seen only the face via the camera, and although suspected she was foreign by the colour of her skin. But he would not have been able to say with exactitude where she came from. When he looked at her full body, he could examine this small tanned skin woman, her big dark eyes as her hair, and the red mark on the forehead. She came from India, and was not at all unpleasant to look.  
They went to the laboratory split up in about ten small individual cubicle, with inside what looked like a MRI scanner. He took the seat and let the machine swallow him within.

- _Think of Desmond. In all your memories of him, with him or not. The machine will take care to convert them in digital data._

William closed eyes and did what was asked. He searched the darkest inmost depths of his memory, going to the announcement of the future birth of this child. His wife was so happy this day, and he, had remained arms hung on this piece of news, incapable to integrate the information. He was going to be a father. This idea had paralysed him one moment, before leaving, and let an affectionate smile appear on his face.

- " _Memory sequence detected_ " " _Beginning of extraction_ "

Other memories accumulated in his spirit. Some of an extreme commonness, surprising that they were still there, others, marking by their emotional character, had resurfaced.  
How long had he stayed there ? He did not know it, but the security of the program had engaged.

- _It is over ?_ He asked full of hope .

Rebecca answered him no in head sign. And Shaun helped him to lift up before supplying him some explanations.

_- It is necessary for you to rest and to eat sir. Several sessions will be required to collect your memories. Sleep-deprivation degrades their quality._

- _You 're done for today, it's my turn then Shaun will contribute to the collection. Go to sleep. If you are well enough, tomorrow you can make a session in the morning and one at the end of after noon._

A long expiration demonstrated that the master was resigned to follow the advice of his two agents and friends. His head was completely mashed and he felt sick to have relived all this. In the machine he knew that his real body had cried.

Shaun and Rebecca contribution's went faster; they did not know Desmond for so for, and their memories were still very recent. An agent had been sent at beginning of stage 2 to meet madam Miles in order to work with her.

This had been presented to her as a commonplace experience of the animus, and as an assassin, she had to get involved and take part in the development of the project.  
William felt so guilty of implying her, but he could not make it without her memories. She would bring them so much.

He hadn't told her anything about their son's fate. He wasn't able to. And shall not have known how to tell her.  
No matters the physical and psychological training, no matters to be a man or a woman, every parent is equal in front of the death of his child; masks fall and the most solid ramparts are reduced to dust.

He had already caused his wife too much pain, he shall not add more. That's why he hid the truth, saying her that their small Desmond was going well, that it was in mission at the other end of the world.  
Whatever it cost to lie, it strengthened him, and urged him not to bend over the weight of this heavy truth. For her.

Other agents were sent to meet people who once knew Desmond during his period outside The

Farm, to obtain discreetly their memories.  
Days passed and exhausted him in everything way. The collection was finished.  
Memocorp software was digesting the data. Soon he'll create an autonomous program with the voice, the appearance, and the personality of the deceased man.  
The engineering doctor Patie was exhausted. She wanted only one thing, to finish the ultimate check of Desmond's algorithm, and to go to have a bath. A warm one.

It was not more that a question of minutes, and already, William, his headphones on the head, paced the room back and forth. Shaun and Rebecca looked alternately their boss and the screen of video-conference, hoping for a sign of delivery on the studious face of the Indian woman.

When she sketched a smile, a true one, Mr. Miles stopped.

_- Where do you wish us to make the data of your son appear ?_ She asked

He had thought a lot about it in earlier hours. And finally, he had opted for a peaceful environment, a place he wanted neutral. An Argentine ranch where they had spent the holidays while Desmond was only ten years old. A vast meadow, horses, cows, a dog, in the middle of nowhere. Today set at the city's periphery. He connected to Central City and joined this small peaceful place. He entered the house, and watched his son materializing under the eyes. Pixels swirled and agglutinated, forming the face, then, more quickly his body and his limbs. Dressed in his eternal sweat-shirt and his jeans, Desmond was there, two meters next to him.

_- Desmond._

_- Father? What are we doing here ?_

William was able to hold on no longer, he crosses this horrible space who had separated them all the

time and embraced his child; the power of his grip was full of feelings. It spoke at his place when the words remained stuck in his throat knotted by the emotion. It said to him how much he had missed him, that he was sorry for everything, and for that again. And that also.  
And it said to him how much he loved him.

Desmond felt all this and even more when the body of his father was shaken small sobs.  
He felt as a little boy who had scared to death his parents, and that he had hurt them without knowing it. Instinctively, his chin quit the paternal shoulder and buries his face in the neck of the old man. He tightened his father in return. And they stayed in this position of numerous minutes.

Then, as they used to do before, they settled down under the house's hall, comfortably sat in two rocking chairs put next to each others, enjoying the landscape and the heat.

_- What do you remember, son ?_ He asked cherishing his child's hair.

He remembered many things. And especially to have wanted to prevent the apocalypse from coming true. So choosing to let to his peers the hard chore of fighting a god. Otherwise worse. A goddess.  
Why was he alive? Had we hindered his sacrifice? How long had he stayed in coma.

So many questions which his father patiently took time to answer. And other tears had flowed.  
No he hadn't failed. Earth continued to turn. And Juno, if she had waited for centuries, was not any more in one year meadows; she had to make up her plans, place her pawns, and who still knows which terrible intentions she had in store for them.

A repetitive humming got closer to them. In the sky, they saw it, this helicopter which came in their direction. By the time Miles family arrived, it landed in the nearby field. Shaun went out to welcome his friend, and was surprised being pleased to see him again, he welcome him with a surprised embrace and invited him to jump in the machine while it helices began to turn again.

_- What is going on Shaun?_ Summoned the great master.

_- Let's say, we have a little incoming problem, little as a blue star.  
_

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**Thank you readers from all around the world**  
**M.**


	4. The Blue Star

**Bonjour tout le monde: Hello everybody**

**Another chapter up. **  
**Things are finaly mooving.**  
**Hope you'll like it.**

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The Blue Star

* * *

The comparison was true indeed. For insiders._  
_

In the unreal office of the Grand Master, Shaun, Desmond, William and Patie had their eyes fixed on a screen. It was the north-west districts of the imaginary city, a fiefdom of the Arabic Middle Ages.A master assassin of the XIIth century, very recognizable by his long white tunic was running in streets, visiting every household, noticing with the same dismay that they were empty.

-_ Let me resume it. The animus is a nasty collaborator who sticks its oar in our work. It saved your passed former trips. Memocorp started sharing data with it when your program finalized. And plop, cracking all our firewall, Altaïr was born_.

To illustrate his comment, Shaun made a big gesture imitating fireworks with the hands, fingers stirred as to indicate the scattering of millions flying glitters.  
Raising the head towards the screen, the Indian woman explained:

- _Since his arrival, we confined him in his historic district, forbidding him to cross the border and to come to perturb Central City's servers with its own memories. Shaun and I have to work on that, restrain the animus so that it doesn't poison the system again.  
Others are finalizing an NPC patch, to populate this place there. Our newcomer will feel less alone. I hope that it will occupies him it the time we find the good words to calm him down_.

All turned to the Grand Master. He sighed. They hadn't left him a slightest chance.  
Evidently he should be the one speaking to him. It was one of the numerous inconveniences of the job.  
Of a simple wave of the hand, he let know that he had seized the insinuation and that he shall do it.  
Later.

- _Can't you just delete him ? Like an old file?_ Proposed Desmond

Shaun smiled at the idea of putting the great Altaïr in the trash can. Empty the trash can. Then de-fragmenting the hard disk. Wahahahaaha.  
Leaving her colleague with its inner frenzy, Patie Lawrence took a step to the one she had just got acquainted to.

- W_e could be able do it for the others, but him, he is already a part of the Memocorp. It is because of your recollections in the animus. The machine had much more opportunities to reproduce its program. Within the next hours, it is more likely that others of your ancestors quickly appear without us having ordered the grouping of their memories and approved their insertion in the system in a previous time.  
_  
His forefathers -whose memories he had relived- were going to show up.  
He could only feel shameful about that. For two things mainly.  
The first one being that he had not honoured their inheritance in his youth, and that he had needed their assistance to acquire capacities that they had put quite their bodies and souls to be forged. And he had made nothing extraordinary so. Nor found any apple of Eden, or freed a whole continent.

The second, was to know them already without them knowing him. He had lived with them some disturbing and intimate moments. What a big peeping Tom he was.  
No that was not diplomatic at all to speak about the woman of an other one as if we had also experienced it.  
By respect for his elders, he should keep silent forever about this part of the story.  
Desmond was already thinking back, frowning. He addressed to his friend.

- _Thus if I think of them, I can make relive assassin's memory which I knew, passed as present.  
_

- I_n theory yes. Memocorp can recreate whoever you may know. We have just restrained it to the simple assassins who died. I do not particularly want to cross our natural enemies, nor my ex. For example.  
_  
Shaun had a forced laugh. Speaking of girlfriend.

_- Lucy could return._

There was a moment of hesitation. A profound silence, where each of both programmers waited to see who would answer. Finally, while Shaun took its breath to expose him the facts without lying, Patie Lawrence outstripped him, irritated by its lack of courage.

Her voice was cold... Cold and deadly as Arctic winter.

- T_raitors, so brilliant they are, and you know that every era saw its prize of spies in our ranks, are blacklisted. Police record. Positive Discrimination. Call that whatever you want but no harmful program can ever be created here. Sorry for your affairs._

Although he understands Dr. Lawrence's position, Shaun tried to support Desmond's idea.

_- We could create a prison and..._

- _No !_

It was irrevocable.

William patted the shoulder of his son, in a sign of reassurance and comfort.  
The Indian was really very angry.

_- Too dangerous.__ It was the last words which Patie Lawrence pronounced before she um-pixelise.__  
_

_- I 'm gonna be the one talking to Altaïr, __suddenly says Desmond, breaking the silence that who settled down after the doctor's logout._

He knew him, and wanted to see him with the own eyes, to interact with him, not through him. He began to make his way towards the elevator when a lugubrious thought crossed his mind.

-_ What's going on if he assails my throat with his blade? I die? Once more..._

- Yes; y_ou'll be suffocating with your own blood in a slow agony, and then the system will reboot your program. And you will be as new,_ Shaun explained while smiling.

- N_ot that this perspective enchants me, but it reassures me. See ya later.  
_

He greeted once again his father who disconnected to take advantage of a real night of sleep, after so much expectation then emotion, he had deserved it well.

Outside, Desmond took a cab and asked to be drove at the Northern temporal border. To fit in the scene, the system had dressed him in a young master Altaïr similar robe.  
He had a vague feeling of déjà-vu. Everything was familiar to him, the smell of the air, the colours, the crowd, the buildings, even the big fortress which raised itself in front of him seemed to be an old friend.

He found his ancestor not far from Masyaf main entrance, sat on a rock, the head between the knees, hands on the head, as a being in the grip of a terrible migraine.

_- Safety ans peace master Altaïr! _Says Desmond to introduce himself.

- _Safety and peace brother, _answered the other one after a hiccup of surprise. Finally a colleague!

Both protagonists removed their respective hoods in a mirror gesture, the following moment Desmond felt caught, thrown, and fluttering; he found itself back on the ground, breathlessly, his old-man sat on his torso, unsheathed and threatening blade on his throat.

- _You are not from here. Who are you? _In the tone of its voice it was effectively a threat_._

- _My name is Desmond. Desmond Miles._

The hidden blade returned back in its sheathe indicating that he wasn't considered an enemy any more. Altaïr got up and taking the arm of his victim, pulled Desmond with him. While the Syrian detailed him of the look, he shake his robe out of dust.

-_ I can finally put a face on your name young assassin. You are promised to great things, I thought you will be more... hem...,_ said he by inflating his chest and bandaging the muscles of his arms.

- ..._and you are younger than in my last souvenir,_ Desmond answered, smiling at the view of the arabian's face. It was Altaïr of the last murders of Jerusalem, before the truth of Al Mualim's double dealing was revealed.

Ahaha.

It was going to be necessary to gabble something to make this big pill cross in that technology non-believer's throat.  
An idea came to his mind. He tried more than everything to keep a quiet and serene tone by explaining things to Altaïr.

- _Altaïr, I am your very distant descendant. I come from the year 2012. The assassins still admire your greatness and wisdom. Today, the magic Apple that Malik recovered risking his life for, and that you studied so much years; who allowed you to guide us on our assassination's way through ages, it sends me back towards you to take advice._

- _How may I help you son ?_

Butter Altaïr's ego up seemed to help him allow the fact that he was disturb in his eternal rest.

-_ I still don't know. But from now on, the Eden globe keeps your spirit here so that I can consult you at any time. Certainly your fellow brothers will join you. All you need to do is being patient. And when I control this artefact, you'll be able to meet your other descendants._

A glimmer of hope illuminated the bronze eyes of the Syrian.

- _Malik will come back? My sons? Maria?_

_- No, not Maria, the Apple does not care that she took our side, she was a Templar, and cannot return here. Only the assassins can. The rest is only resulting of your memories._

_- All those people ? _ Ask the arabic by turning to the livened up village._ All of this... It's not true.  
_

_- Nothing is true, _say Desmond

_- Everything is permitted._

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**Thank you for reading and following the story.**  
**M._  
_**


	5. The Founding Fathers

**Another chapter.**  
**I enjoyed so much writing it (in french)**  
**Hope you'll like it.**

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The Founding Fathers

* * *

- _Few hours ago, Ezio Auditore and Connor's programs showed themselves up. As we had planned it, their districts are inhabited, they won't suspect anything before somebody explains it to them._

Mr. Miles smiled listening to the morning report as he settled down in an armchair of the computer room, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand.

- _Ask Desmond to have a little chat with them._

- _He already went to see Ezio at Monterregioni. The Italian understood well the fact that he was able to begin his life again, without caring about consequences, and ran to meet some ... concubines. And as we're talking, Desmond is heading to the Domain,_ Rebecca informed.

Since Altaïr's unforeseen arrival, the animus and the memocorp are collecting data about his son Darim Ibn La'Ahad and Malik Al-Sayf. After the integration of Ezio and Connor, two other assassins are in treatment: Mario Auditore and Achille Davenport, Shaun announced

- _Everything is quickly going to interconnect and other assassins will be ready to be introduced into the city. I think that we shall not delay it anymore. We will allow our agents to explore their memories and wake their ancestors, _announced the leader.

- _Oh, talking about that, Malik's AI program is finalized; we can integrate it into the system._

William gave his consent, and Shaun executed the order. Jerusalem's rafik and Altaïr's first lieutenant was going to be released in the Assassins' citadel, in the great library which was use as the office to the first newcomer.  
This man of tanned complexion, severe face, dark eyes and his messy hair stood up one moment before calling out his counterpart who read parchments and who had not noticed him.

- _Altaïr !?_ the Arab gasped, looking at this young version of the mentor of the Levantine order.

- _Safety and peace my friend !_ He answered him, getting up so hastily the chair overturned.  
He opened his arms in a large warm welcoming gesture, a wide smile plastered on his face, his heart beating hard so he was happy to see him again after all that time.

First, his ten years journey had separated them before they met again, older. Malik was back then only skin and bones and was imprisoned in a cell; if only he had known for Abbas, he would have returned earlier. And thirty additional years had passed after that bloody day where he lost both Malik and Maria. Then too many long years of loneliness and roving had passed before the fortress was besieged and before he locked himself down there with the Apple, before letting his body decay and let his spirit join the ones he cherish in the other world.

- _No, our presence here deprives me of both! The last time we saw each other, we were old white bearded men… Before he came to eliminate me._

- _I wasn't able to prevent it. Will you forgive me ? _he asked sadly, putting a hand on the handicapped shoulder of the other man

- _Only__ if my death was useful to you, _declared Malik.

Altaïr winced, and his adviser had a sigh of contempt.  
He had so many things to tell him, the trips before and after his death, and the today's situation…

- _We are in the Apple. _When you have as much delicacy as Altaïr, you just make it simple.

- _What have you done again, Altaïr ?! I already told you to stop using this devilish machine._

-_ I continued to investigate its power after your loss, but please consider, now, it's my descendant Desmond who uses it and we are here to help him by our councils and our experience. Modern world assassins are still fighting for our cause._

Of his unique hand, the raven-haired pinched the bridge of his nose in an exasperation gesture, already thinking of all the blunders which Altaïr's descendant had been able well to engender.  
Altaïr explained him what he had understood of their condition and their purpose here, still startling his interlocutor.  
They had so many things to learn and so much still to be said to each other but before...

- _Now I would like you to answer a very important question. You have to know that I was not able to defeat Abbas and that I had to exile myself. And when I returned to make him pay for what he had done, I met your son Tazim, a nice lad, very faithful; he helped me a lot in the reconquest of Masyaf. So Malik, when you did decide to take a wife?_

_- When I felt that you would not return. And that I had waited too long. I needed an heir. I am happy that he was able to assist you as I would have wanted to keep doing._

On these words, he left the library.  
He needed to think of all this. To digest the fact of being only a tool for the assassins whom had the Apple in their ownership today. Furthermore, he do not have to administer, to make up missions, to choose targets. The shock of retirement.  
And then, if all the great masters of the order returned, who will legally have the right to have on the master-bedroom?

In the south-east of Central City, between the immense forest in the North and the ocean on the West, there was the American XVIII th district, within it the coastal city of Boston and Frontier with Davenport' domain.  
Desmond, dressed for the occasion with a long navy-blue coat, leather boots, and a musket on the shoulder, went to the docks where the Aquila was moored.

The boat was a little bit damaged due to its last trip on the sea.  
The crew was renewing it, and Connor tilted on the logbook to order materials and new cannons.

- _Captain Connor !_ Desmond called him after rising on the footbridge.

- _Be welcome my friend, what can I do for you?_ Amerindian answered.

- _Wah__, you are undoubtedly the burliest of all my ancestors. Hem... It is the spirit which lives in the golden ball who sends me to you._

The Amerindian looked up and down to Desmond of all his height. Noted the presence of two secret blades struck with the Assassins' emblem. He closed the book and invited Desmond to walk with him and join the manor at the top of the hill.

- _You may speak_, he told now that they had walked away from the crowded quays.

- _I am Desmond, I come of the XXth century and am your descendant. Juno wants to destroy everything our Brotherhood contributed to build, and take the control of the humanity. __The technology of my time allows to return your spirits and to maintain them alive in this imaginary world, that is why your body is younger._

- _I shall do my best to help you_, agreed Connor by offering his hand.

- _Thank you. Soon you'll meet my other ancestors Altaïr_ _and Ezio,_ answered his heir by tightening the hand.

A familiar humming took place by other side of the front door.

- _Seems that the spirit of Achille returned too. I leave you to your reunion. See you soon._

Desmond gave his elder a sweet smile because he knew how much the loss of his mentor had affected him more than another loss. Connor had had to make difficult choice which would eternally haunt his man's heart. Kill his Mohawk best friend, then his own parent whom he began to appreciate/estimate in spite of their opposition.  
The Amerindian thanked him with a nod and having took a long breath, opened the manor's door.

- _Connor ! I did not hear you get in. I believed you were in Lexington to fight the British army away,_ says Achille by getting up from of his red velvet armchair, catching his cane to come greeting the man which had just entered and that he recognized by the familiar sound of his approach.

The emotion rose to the face of the young assassin. The enjoyment and the sadness tied his throat by trying to drown his eyes with tears. He embraced this man who during twelve years had given him the name of his son and had raised, educated, and trained him as a father. He had left too early too, quite as his mother. And all the rest of his life, in his endless quest of freedom, he had spent it without his parents, and had felt very lonely, alone against all.  
Today, we gave him a chance to live and learn more with him.

- _Everything is over. We will not have battles to fight anymore._

Achille deviated slowly to look at his pupil, he waited for more explanations.  
Had they won ? Were English vanquished ? Templars annihilated ? Had Connor murdered Haytham and Charles Lee?  
Connor told him about the History that he had lived, and that even more surprising in which he announced through the technology today.

-_ Shall I ever be able to enjoy my retirement ?_ noticed Achille in a amused sight in memory of the day when a young boy had knocked to his door, shaking him out of its torpor and the dullness of its life.  
That child he was so proud of.

* * *

**Thanx for reading and supporting.**  
**M.**


	6. Coffee Break

**Bonjour,**  
**Hope you'll like this chapter.**

* * *

Coffee Break

* * *

The next day, in the middle of the morning and of their personal activities, the assassins were teleported in Central City, at the corner of two streets, in front of a well known green brand and of which the terrace was crowded of empty table with the exception of one.  
Desmond, the common to the heir three of them, got up from the small group which already waited sat around a big table. The others also got up.

- _Dearest ancestors and friends, let me introduce you. Coming from the real world, my father William current Grand Master of the Brotherhood. Here are Rebecca, Shaun, and Patie. Assassins, although specialized in new technologies. They help me to control the power of the Apple which gathers you here. They are not very talented at wall climbing, _Desmond explained.

Altaïr shook William's hands friendly as passing on the torch.

Mario held Ezio by pulling his ear when he wanted to get closer to young ladies.

- _Then, by my father side, I am affiliated to Ezio and his uncle Mario, assassins of XV th century italian Renaissance. They also are descendant of Altaïr whom we do not present any more. Here is his right hand - If I may say without nasty play of word and old friend, Malik. And by my mother, I inherited from Connor's blood of which the big father was also a famous pirate and Assassin. And here is Achille, his mentor. _

_- We are a big family, let's have a hug ! _Proposed Ezio by making the step towards Altaïr.

The men shook hands politely.

William invited the dean Achille to take a seat, and sat down at his side. Finishing to greet themselves, the others also sat down.  
The oldest looked with curiosity inward of the store through the wide window; there were other tables, beds in the shape of benches, and counters with some food.

- _It is what we call a restaurant. There is of all kinds according to the specialities that they propose. We come to eat ready-made meal here, and we pay for it,_ explained Shaun.

- _Shall we die if we do not eat ? While we do not have more flesh corpse to satisfy?_ Asked Achille.

- _Yes you will die. And you'll be brought back to life just after and healthy,_ answered Patie.

That is such an inconvenience, if we wanted to finish it, we could not.  
The scientists could well say to him that they could block the process once death had occurred and take them out of the interface, but they wouldn't make it. They were only programs, their creations. Their dependent. If they had a so acute consciousness of their environment, a well established personality, it was them to thanks.

-_ So, that's what your city looks like in the reality? _Mario's deep voice said.

His head raised towards the tall buildings from which he hardly saw the very top, then coming back towards the funny carts which passed in the avenue. They made no noise and moved fluidly by avoiding the persons up on some two-wheeled mechanics._  
__  
- Not exactly, here we are free to let our imagination create of such buildings. There are some similar there, but not so much in the same city, _answered Rebecca

-_ Here it is a kind of utopia. People are pleasant, no criminality , no poverty, no pollution. The truth is quite different, _added Desmond

_- So we shall never see the world such as it is really, _concluded Ezio.

- _Not for the moment, no. You will learn more about that later. Step by step. The Assassins of the modern world are going to stream here, starting tomorrow. Some shall choose to make their ancestors live again, after others not, and others else will not be lucky enough to be able to complete the memory,_ began Patie before letting Shaun continue.

- _According to their historic origin, they will go to one of your districts, where we shall confine them the time to test the capacities of the system. You will be our ambassadors, in order to explain them the [...]_

So much complex clap-trap as many did not understand, and already, the attention of some was really low. Ezio was taken in the pondering of Rebecca's face sat in front of him.  
Altaïr was busy atouching all the objects set on the table; the crockery, the salt shaker, the cutlery.

- _What is that ?_ Altaïr asked to Malik sitting in front of him.

- _Ah I know, it is a fork !_ Answered hastily Connor at Malik's right.

- _It is used to prick food. It is more clean than to put fingers in the food,_ explained William.

The old one certainly needed a demonstration to understand the concept.  
It was as to educate children, to open them to the world and to explain them its functioning.  
Except that a child was more susceptible, he had no later education which could urge him to resist.

They were going to have a lot of work if they wanted to share their knowledge.

_- Coffee, sirs ? __Asked for a charming waitress in short uniform, a coffee-pot full of infusion._

Everybody was served.  
Ezio and his contemporaries already knew but it was a novelty for the Arabians. So they thought. Indeed, they also knew this beverage, but under another name.

_- Why my brother's memory is not here yet ? _Asked for Malik by pushing far away from him the cup of black liquid, which Altaïr hurried up to caught.

- _There are still not enough data to complete the memory_,answered briefly the Indian.

_- We starting with nothing. It will require the presence of other assassins to supply more information and..._

-_ I had a long life you know. A childhood where I hard entrained to never let my rival set too much distance between us, in vain. I complied to the creed, too much. Kadar loved you and admired you while I made everything for him, my younger brother; and only saw in you an arrogant favourite._  
_Our stubbornness cost us a lot._

He said it, not once breaking eye-contact with Altaïr. Yes, it was their fault, the two of them and little from Kadar too, too cheerful at the idea of sharing for mission with his idol, no concentration. And their division had been the first sign of their coming failure. By returning the Apple, he made the death of his younger brother not to be vain; instead of retreat in the beginning and to save their asses, its stubbornness to prove Altaïr's errors had cost him so much. Having acquainted later the malice of the artefact and been conscious that he served the intentions of their mentor, this traitor, Malik believe that he had deserved to be punished.

_- Kadar was took away from me, my arm removed, I lost my status. I misses him more now that I know that he can be here. But I do not know if I want to see him again after all this time, having suffered so much from his absence, and had put so much time to raise recover. His death matured us, and it made a better man out of me. I cannot live here while I am sixty years old in my heart and while he will be getting here as a young man, and that we shall not grow together __any more__.__  
_

_- Malik you are sure that ,_ Altaïr began, worried, but stopped by seeing the sadness in the dark eyes of his best friend. This pig-headed won't change his mind.

- _It is your decision, I will respect it, _asserted Patie.

There was an awkward silence, where they could hear their deglutition noises

- _Well, have you ideas to improve your everyday life ? Any Particular demands to submit us? Don't be shy ! We can practically imagine everything_,

exclaimed Shaun_  
_  
- _Lower the prices, or as it is not real, give us more money, _summoned Connor.

- _I may have some tea_, demanded Malik by showing its mug;

- _Madonna, I may imagine that you would be free this evening to get us to know each other better,_ cooed the Italian by taking Rebecca's hand

- _Ezio! Control yourself,_ scolded his uncle

- _I suppose that the progress brought you a lot of comfort, then without wanting to modify my domain, I shall like having a more comfortable bed to relieve my back._

- _Soldiers on roofs and in streets, so that we can have a little fun and to continue to exercise our techniques_, Ezio asked again.

By the look on Connor's face, we could say that he was apparently not sharing its opinion, remembering itself that he had never been so happy to freerun over Boston's roofs before his arrival here. In his century, the guards were really annoying little spoilsports, to remain polite.

- _hmm... I would like to... I do not understand why when I am going to bathe in Oronte, I sink systematically, in spite of my struggling to swim I drown instead of floating, that really hurts to suffocate and to die underwater... is this happening to you too ?_

Other ancestors shrugged or shook the head. While Shaun, Rebecca and Desmond shared collusive smiles, by holding themselves to laught. Finally, Shaun cried and burst out laughing, so the two others.

Wainting for them to get their breath back, under the interrogative gaze of most of them, Patie suggested politely to Mario taste the vienoiseries which the waitress had brought.

- _it's a running gag. Because the animus was not powerful enough and ...I am going to settle that,_ promised Rebecca seriously, afraid of dark look the great assassin shot her.

* * *

**Thank you for reading.**  
**M.**_  
_


	7. Bad news

**Hello there !**

**In french, we have some polite and respectfull way of speech when we talk to strangers, the cashier, a professor, some times our boss and colleagues... cause we are not friend with them, we cant be so familiar with them. But, to make things easier, in english, there's only one way to translate the two way of speech.**

**French pronouns: Je-Tu-Il-Nous-Vous-Ils**  
**English pronouns: I-You-He-We-You-They**

**Tu**** is the friendly/equal to equal way, ****Vous**** is the distant/respect/formal way... and both make = ****You****  
So I had to simplify the dialogue for you guys. Here it's easy, not to much lines, but for chapter 10 (already wrote), I m gonna cry.**

**Enjoy !**

* * *

Bad News

* * *

A few days had passed. And new faces had appeared in the city. Many people belonged to the order during XX th century and had been victims of the purge after the year 2000 and Daniel Cross's treason. Memocorp had some more of data to be collected to form older artificial intelligences.

It was the second time that Achille and Mario left their districts to visit Central City. They were accompanied with their apprentices. A tamed eagle had been the bearer of the message and the plan: a council had to take place and they were invited to it.

And for the recently arrived agents, to see horses in town, with cosplayed people on them, it was really strange and funny sight.

Malik was standing at the entrance of the big tower towards which the map guided them, and greeted them of a nod when he saw them.

- _Safety and peace brothers,_ he says when they were closer.

- _Bonjiorno Rafik, master Altaïr is not with you ?_ Ezio asked, demounting his horse.

- _He is, he tries his every effort to go on the top there, but it is too slippery,_ he indicated while pointing his index finger towards the sky.

All looked-up to see one of the greatest assassin of the history trying to climb on an internal corner of the tower, and such a child on a slide, get down of twenty centimetres in every attempt to rise.

- _This is a man who won't stop giving himself challenges, _commented Mario full of spirit.

- _Altaïr, you disgrace your assassin's title! Come down at once !_ Malik chanted

- _It's quite normal, there's only Tom Cruise in Impossible Mission 3 who can climb slippery windows,_ explained Desmond who went out of the tower to come to meet them.

- _Who is this Tom? Is he a modern assassin ?_ Asked Altaïr, jumping down

- _In a way he is, I shall show you one of these days. __Follow me_.

Desmond guided them through the hall, at their right, there was an elevator, to the left, in front of the elevator there was the modern' assassins' connection room; in the middle of the hall stood a round piece of furniture, with within it, the receptionist, who one named Bob. They continued their walk in. In front of them, a wide staircase which rose directly to the second floor, to the right, there was a metal door with a big L embossed design, and a small black case for the opening. They took the elevator up to the sixth floor, provoking a wide spectrum of emotions on the past ages men.

Connor breathed very hardly and sweated, ill-at-ease, wrinkling his hands on the banister. Altaïr laughed, looking to his own face in the mirror. Ezio and Mario admired the control panel with bright buttons.

Malik was also holding the rail with his only hand.

Connor crouched to try and recover but to no avail.

- _I believe that Connor is having some claustrophobia. Fear of the restricted spaces, _specified Desmond.

Quite fitting for a man raised into MotherEarth's wild.

_TING_

Malik almost vomited the content of his stomach when the machine stopped and when its organs had a small leap inside him.  
Connor crawled towards the light of the door-window to take himself out of the elevator, under the disapproving look of its mentor.  
Mario helped him up and supported him to the room where Desmond led them.

There, they found the current Grand Master, the man with glasses and the foreign young lady whom all tried to help the young Amerindian assassin to get his tan back.

- _Rebecca is not here_, Ezio pouted while taking a seat. He liked her, she pleasantly reminded him of Rosa, the Venetian.

- _What are we waiting for to begin the meeting ?_ Malik asked.

- _That the person who asked for it arrives_, indicated Shaun.

- _Is our presence really required ? I am bored._ Ezio sighed.

- _No, but it is unusual that Desmond's ancestors are mentioned in the reality, I thought that you would be interested to know why. If it is the case, then suffer in silence. It is up to you to leave. _

- _We are going out to wait for him_, proposed Altaïr by putting a hand on the shoulder of his adviser.

The Italian pushed a surly sigh, he was old and did not like to wait.  
Altaïr got up, followed by Malik, and with Desmond they went to chat in the corridor.

- _Come on doors, open ! Faster! Faster! Ah! it is there. _

She, yes, she went out of the elevator and walked towards the meeting room as quickly as her high-heels allowed her to.

- _Ya' re late,_ says Desmond when she passed in front of them.

- _Beautiful and playing hard to get, for what else can I be blamed ? For working too much. Got stuck in traffic. Or worse, to have had to switch on the generator myself. And I came as quickly as possible, without taking time to dress in a more convenient garments. _

- _You could have. We waited for ya. Five more minutes wouldn't kill us,_ he say teasing her.

-_ If only... there was no need to, really, _she answered with a forced smile._ And otherwise, you often begin you to speak so familiar with lady you do not know?_

And here was another woman, stubborn with respect and protocol rules. It was her way to ask him to introduce himself. Meaning that she made a step towards him. And he had decided to be nicer, so:

- _I am Desmond Miles,_ he said smiling, offering her an open hand.

She quickly shook hands with him, smiling, perhaps a little too much, and introduced herself.

- _Amira Astier. So pleased to know you're finally among us Desmond, you took your time to decide and become an assassin. We had a lack of novices. Aha !_

She tapped his shoulder with the other hand and gave him an amused smile before reaching the door. Desmond smiled in return at this first teasing. She look nice too.

Witness of the scene, two accomplices. The one turned to the other.

- _She reminds me somebody, and I can't manage to remember. I'm becoming too old._

_- What is it with you Altaïr ?_

Malik let his look linger over their assassin'sister. Her uniform was constituted with a parma-red dress with fringes going down up to the top of the knees, leaving her calves protected by a very fine black veil. Her red shoes seemed not practical, and did not hold the ankles. Her arms were naked, deprived of hidden blade or piece of armor.  
She carried fineries in wrists and in neck. And got some make up on her serene face.  
Not exactly the outfit of an assassin after all. The modern had funny clothing tastes.

- _She's an attractive woman as there are hundreds_, he noticed coldly. _Your type of girl._

_- No, I didn't mean Maria_.

It's true, her long brown hair, stately demeanor, sharp eyes; the complexion of her skin, many things as Maria. She was taller and svelter, her keen eyes were green leaf, not light blue; her hair smoother and not waved as his deceased wife.

Obviously, that one was completely his type.

- _But who..._

Following the two young assassins they entered and took a seat around the table.

The newcomer gave Patie a peck, apparently knowing her as she took care of official presentations by enumerating her the old members. Then turning to them:

- _Here is Amira Astier, master assassin, infiltration and poisoning specialist. She is working with me, in Toulouse' headquarters, in south of France._

The newcomer made a general hello wave with her hand to everybody before sitting down next to her colleague.

- _Hello everybody, sorry for this small delay. Got a mission in eastern Europe, the connection there is delicate. Well then, what should I begin with ? The whys and wherefores I found myself with this information ? Or you want to know what the information is about ? _

- _Go to the most urgent, that is why we are here. You will make your debriefing and assignment report later,_ ordered William in his Grand Master's quality

- _The Templars have a biomedical factory somewhere, _she said in a grave sigh.

If the elders did not understand, the concern could be read on the faces of others. It was not surprising knowing Abstergo and their high technological potential but what did they prepare ?

Biochemical weapons?

The French took a long inspiration, as to get ready to reveal a disaster.

- _The papers that I intercepted stated the order of three clones. Their identity: Altaïr Ibn La' ahad, Ezio Auditore and Malik Al-Sayf._

The seconds of silence which followed were heavy, but quickly disturbed by a question the ancestral spirits all have in mind.

- _Scuzzi, what are clones ? _Asked the mentionned Auditore.

- _They are like twins. Of you. In our reality,_ quickly explained Patie.

The ancestors finally understood the gravity of the situation. Some of their own had a double in the real modern world.

- _Do you have proofs of that you say ?_ Summoned the Grand Master

- _I had no time, so I quickly pictured the three files. There is no place, no date, no information on any scientific formula. Just three circulars, one for each, giving the authorization to proceed to the next stage of the cloning experiment called " The fitness "._

- _But why clone old assassins? They had Desmond's DNA, why not ..._

- _Why take a lambda subject – no offence Desmond - when they can offer themselves three of the most brilliant brains of the Brotherhood ?_ said Patie, cutting Shaun's argument

- _In this case, why no Al Mualim's clone ?_ Proposed the lambda subject.

- _I bloody don't know ! If it hadn't been thirty centuries that we are at war against them, I would have directly ask them the question!_ The newcomer spat, enraged.

- _We only have the information for those three, we don't know about the rest, if there are other ones, Assassin as Templars. Why not Lenine or Che Guevara. But what are they going to use them for ?_ Asked Shaun.

- _I can imagine an interesting hypothesis. Instead of stealing us our agents by brain-washing them, they recreate them, all is for the same purpose: To annihilate us. And what could be more effective than an assassin to eliminate an assassin,_ asserted Dr . Lawrence

- _And to take their place in the Brotherhood, being able to kill other ones,_ added Amira as an obvious fact.

- _Who supplied them such a technology ?_ Resumed Shaun.

Oh that, William had a very précised idea about it. But we don't accuse without proof, then he spoke:

_- It is what we might discover in the future. The situation is alarming, I am going to speak with the other lieutenants so that we decide how to react. Amira, get yourself out of troubles if your target is reached. Do not try to obtain other information for the moment.  
Thank you everybody._

* * *

**Thanx for reading !  
M.  
**


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